Changing Times and Changing Faces
by scratch conlon
Summary: Temperance Barta and her twin sister Hattie are dancers. Temperance watches as nightly, Hattie gets abused and ruins herself. Finally Tempe forces her sister to join her in pursuit of a better life, even if that means living in the streets, lying, stealing, and working hard to get somewhere worth being. Throw in a few newsboys, and everything becomes harder. Feedback appreciated.
1. Making an Exit

Temperance Barta watched as her sister curtsied her way out of the blinding stage lights. By now their last show of the night was ending and Tempe was pulling the barrettes and ties out of her long raven hair. Her twin sister Hattie had reached the curtain now and was thoroughly out of breath, though smiling widely. Hattie loved the attention of the last act, especially when she got to do it solo. Tempe however, wouldn't have minded if she never stepped foot on to that blasted stage ever again. She sighed as she walked the narrow path to the dressing room, backstage at Irving Hall was littered with props and costumes of all sorts, no one really bothered to try and organize the old theatre.

As she reached the dressing room a young man was leaning on the wall against the door. He was in his early twenties by the look of him with green eyes and a mess of curly brown hair. He wore dirty slacks and a button up shirt with a bowtie. He looked down at her expectantly.

"Tempe, you already took your hair down." He said with a note of disappointment in his voice. Tempe tried to ignore him by pushing into the dressing room but he stuck an arm out to stop her. Her heels scuffed the floor as she came to a halt. Her equally green eyes flashed up to him in protest.

"Silas, I've done enough tonight, let Hattie greet the admirers, I won't be missed." She said taking a step back and smoothing her obnoxiously pink outfit. Silas shook his head.

"That's not how it works Tempe, you get paid for doing this, and going out there after the fact and putting a smile on the scowling face of yours is half the deal. You are a great dancer-when you try- but the character you put on is what sells the show." Silas said, taking Tempe's hand and pulling her towards the doors that would lead her to the lobby. She pulled her hand away but silently followed him to the end of the corridor. She closed her eyes for a second and imagined the better life this agonizing night would help pay for.

Silas turned and put a hand on Tempe's shoulder. He pulled the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"I don't do this to make you mad Tempe. My job counts on you too. I know you hate this; and I hate that it upsets you. Someday we'll both make it out of this Hell hole. I promise." He said and leaned down and quickly kissed her forehead. Tempe pressed her lips together as she turned towards the double doors. She looked over her shoulder and gave Silas a half smile. His face lit up in a tom-cat grin and he walked away, knowing his mission was accomplished.

Pushing on the door, the sounds of the theatre rushed to greet her. She entered the lobby, which led off to a side bar. Most of the men who had come were in there, smoke wafting from the doors where loud music mixed with drunken laughter. Tempe stood in the lobby for a minute, pulling the edges of her dress down. It was far shorter then would be deemed appropriate in almost any setting, this one included. She felt naked as she attempted to make the dress stretch both up and down at the same time. Both her shoulders and most of her legs were showing. If she went outside, she would surely be thrown into prison!

Tempe gave up wrestling with the abomination and walked into the saloon. Men of every class and age stood drinking and smoking around the cluttered room. She blinked away the tears that came with the stinging smell of alcohol and smoke. Some men sat gambling at the tables while others stood talking to the show girls in the corners. The lights were low, and smoke hung from the rafters like chandeliers.

She saw Hattie leaning against the bar at the far side of the room. She was laughing, throwing her head back in a way that showed off her chest. She knew how to draw in men. Almost all eyes were on her, and most of the men were regulars to the show, all coming for Hattie. It was obvious to Tempe that Hattie had already had a drink. But Tempe wouldn't do that to herself. If she had to come out here, her head would remain clear. She leaned against the decorative wall and looked to the other girls. Letta was in a corner, her dress showing off her curvy figure. A young man was standing in front of her, his hat casting shadows over his eyes; he had his hand on her waist and his eyes on her bust.

The others around the room weren't much different. This was a theatre that promoted dancing, music, and vaudeville. But that didn't mean the girls didn't know how to make a tip. Behind the stage, and along a tiny corridor, there were about three rooms. The girls knew where the keys were. Tempe shook her head. Hattie took another drink. The more Tempe looked out at this scene the more she felt sick to her stomach. She didn't drink. She didn't smoke. She hardly even danced sometimes. And more than anything, Tempe wanted out.

A tap on her shoulder made her turn; she hadn't even noticed someone standing next to her. At first she thought it was Silas, coming to scold her for not mingling more, but she collected herself as she saw it was not him, but a different young man, probably a couple years younger than Silas, but older than her 16. He smiled at her, more of smirk, which reminded her again of Silas' tom-cat grin. He wore a dark denim shirt with slacks, a hat pushed back on his sandy-brown hair. She smiled a little, her eyes staying downcast.

"Hello darlin' what's your name?" The boy asked, his blue-gray eyes playing in the shadows of his hat. Temperance let her smile fall a little, she never liked giving the guys her name, it was too personal, too risky.

"Helen." She said, letting the lie act like a truth so it wouldn't show in her eyes. The boy looked troubled for a second, like he saw through her façade. He quickly laughed, taking her elbow and gently steering her towards the bar.

"If we're gonna go down that road," he started, pausing and smirking at her.

"You can call me… Alexander. Alexander Conlon." He said, waving the bar tender over. Temperance looked at him seriously. Alexander glanced back at her, his face lighting up with the situation. She didn't like him already. His eyes held secrets and lies. His face, a smile that was slightly too confident. Though she smelled no alcohol on him, his eyes danced as if he had already had one of the specials. He pulled out the bar stool for her and she sat, crossing her legs, her slight fingers tugging at the dress again.

Alexander looked at her once more as John, the bar tender came over.

"She'll have a water I presume, and so will I." Alexander said, surprising Tempe. Most men here insisted on buying the girls many drinks. The surprise showed on her face and he smiled.

"You don't drink?" She asked carefully. She still didn't trust this strange man. He shook his head, downing his water quickly.

"I don't like to, and it's obvious you don't either. It clouds the mind." He said looking at Hattie, who had obviously had more to drink. Temperance sighed and sipped at the cold glass, she felt a headache coming on from the repulsive smell the bar gave off. She looked at Hattie who was whispering in some man's ear. Alexander caught her looking and trained his knowing gaze on her sister as well. His eyebrows rose slightly.

"You two aren't much alike, now are you?" He asked as Hattie stumbled under the weight of the alcohol, a fresh cigarette burning between her fingers. Temperance shook her head. It had to already be about midnight, the late show running longer than the rest.

"Do you have a pocket watch sir?" She asked a passing man. He looked her up and down and smiled, reaching into his coat and taking out a gold plated watch. He got too close as he let her look; and he stumbled into her. She felt the stool tip and she was dumped to the ground before she could right herself. Alexander stood as she fell, and instantly clenched his fists. Tempe tried to right her dress, another impossible feat. The pocket watch had torn from the man's coat and fallen with her, it lying next to her on the cold boards.

"You dirty thieving whore!" The man cried, his judgment clouded. He made to kick her side, and just as the blow landed, Alexander punched him in the face, sending him sailing into a gambling table, the men seated there, scrambling away. Temperance stood as quickly as she could, pain bubbling in her side. She gritted her teeth and moved forward as more fights quickly broke out around the bar. She knew if given a reason and enough whisky, things could get out of hand quickly.

She ducked and weaved her way to the back of the bar, avoiding flying fists and falling bodies. At the back she ran to the spot Hattie had stood in a moment before just to realize she was no longer in sight. Tempe twisted around to see Hattie being led to the front of the bar by a large man with less than pleasant intentions on his face. Hattie followed blindly, taking another drink from her glass, and tripping over the fighting men. Tempe ran to her as fast as the situation would allow. She watched as Hattie was almost pulled through the double doors before another fight broke out, this one including the man who had been trying to take her away. Tempe grabbed Hattie's arm as a gunshot rung out in the small quarters. Temperance didn't wait to find out what had happened as she pulled her drunken sister through the lobby, Hattie's glass shattering on the ground.

She didn't stop to listen to Hattie's protests as she pulled her down the backstage area, tripping over sets and props as she made her way to the dressing room. Luckily, Silas wasn't in sight. Tempe threw open the door, and pulled her sister into the small room. She pushed the door closed and put a chair underneath the knob.

"Get changed! Quickly!" Tempe shouted throwing Hattie's long blue skirt at her. Hattie just stood there a minute then laughed. Her face lit up with a smile but her eyes were still confused.

"Why Tempe? Were havin' such a good time." Hattie slurred, moving to the door. Temp grabbed her wrist and made Hattie look at her.

"Hattie. Harriet. Listen to me, we have to leave. We can't stay here any longer. Grab your things, and change. We have to move fast. Do you understand me?" Temperance asked, trying to get through to the impossible girl. Hattie's face fell.

"Were leaving?" She asked still confused. Tempe rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. She walked over to a small bureau and poured water into a cracked mug from a porcelain pitcher. She knew this trick worked on men in the saloon so hopefully it would work with Hattie. She walked back over and splashed all the water in Hattie's slim face.

As the water hit her, Hattie blinked back surprise and wiped her thin features, her eyes looking a little clearer. She set her shoulders and slapped Tempe right across the face, sending the unexpecting girl falling for the second time that night. Tempe looked up and her with hate in her eyes.

"If you want to stay here and be pushed around and harassed every night, that's fine, but be prepared to do it alone. I'm leaving." She said getting up and pulling an old carpet bag from under a chair. Temperance didn't look at her sister as she pulled off her terrible show dress and threw it aside. She pulled on a longer underskirt, and a thicker brown one over that. Her favorite shirt was next, it was the warmest, and had the longest sleeves. She sat on the bed and pulled on her high laced boots which she saved for winter days. Even now the cold was seeping in the little room. She glanced up to see Hattie trying to unbutton her matching pink dress. At least she was changing. There was hope yet.

At the mirror Temperance looked at her tired face. She gathered her hair and slung it into a low bun, tying a dark blue scarf over her scalp, the ends of in trailing down her neck. She grabbed a rag and dunked it in the pitcher, wiping the makeup from her face. Big green eyes, porcelain skin, and pale lips took shape as the paint was washed away. She moved about the room silently, gathering a small stock pile of money, about eight dollars at best. She put it into an empty powder can and stuck it in her bag. Within minutes she was packed and ready to leave. Hattie was a little slower, but Tempe was convinced she was actually coming now.

Temperance paced back and forth across the small room, wringing her hands and her eyebrows furrowing. She didn't know where they were going to go. She just knew it was time to leave. She was done watching Hattie do that to herself and she was done dancing. She just wasn't made for it. She glanced up as Hattie was finishing packing her dresses. Tempe opened her pack again and took out the little tin of money.

"Hattie? Can I hold onto your stash of money?" She asked, knowing Hattie wouldn't like it. As she looked up from packing her eyes flashed defensively, but she pulled out a small wad of bills and a bit of change. Tempe's face burned red. It was more than her eight dollars. She quickly took the money and stashed it in the tin, storing it away in her bag again.

"Because, you know, it's a good idea to just pool our money and draw from it as we need to…sparingly, of course, until we find work." Temperance said even though Hattie hadn't asked for an explanation. Hattie nodded but didn't look up. Soon, she was ready and they were picking up their bags to head out. Then there was a knock on the door. Temperance paled and looked to Hattie. Her eyes were already trained on Temperance. Tempe bit her lip as a second, more persistent, knock came.

"Temperance? Tempe, are you in there? I need to speak with you." Silas' voice sounded from the other side of the door. Tempe stayed silent, not wanting him to know they were leaving. Silas was obviously leaning righ on the door now.

"Temperance, I really have something I need to say to you, open up." He said, shoving the door. The chair fell out of place and the door swung open, hitting the wall and revealing the girls, packed and ready to leave. Silas righted himself quickly and his face fell as he realized what was going on.

"Oh. I knew you were gonna leave someday, I just didn't realized today was the day." He said looking at Tempe and then stepping out of the doorway.

"I won't stop you." He said looking down. Silas was Irving Hall's stage manager. He was responsible for the whole of the show, especially keeping track of the performers. Temperance knew that Silas would be in trouble when someone had found out they were gone. He was risking his job by letting them pass uninhibited. Temperance looked at Hattie and wavd her through the door, she followed behind but paused as she passed Silas.

"Thank you Silas." She said hugging him. Silas hugged her back tightly.

"Take care of Hattie. She needs you." He whispered as Tempe pulled away, and squeezed his hand.

"I will. I promise." She said as she followed Hattie out of the theatre, through the lobby and into the cold night, the biting wind blowing their skirts. At one in the morning, Temperance was alone with her sister, the rest of their lives, and more importantly, the rest of this November night, staring them in the face.


	2. Invading Brooklyn

**A/N: Thanks for reading everybody! I love feedback and appreciate the time you take to give it. Here's chapter two!**

Temperance and Hattie walked along the quiet streets as the wind abused their hands and faces. Hattie began to fall farther and farther behind as the night wore on. A nasty hangover was quickly grasping her. Tempe was becoming desperate. They needed somewhere warm to stay the night or they would surely freeze. She cursed herself out loud as they walked.

_Why _had she been so stubborn? They could have waited the night in the relative warmth of the dressing room instead of facing this cold. One more night would not have made a difference. She thought back to the fight in the bar and realized that is what pushed her over the edge. If it hadn't been for that they might still be warm.

Temperance was desperate now. If any building had a light on, she would knock. They needed somewhere to stay desperately. However the wide streets of New York were empty. Tempe had seen the streets bustling so often that the quiet silence of the night wore on her ears practically to the point of madness. The only sound was their footsteps and Hattie's almost constant complaining.

"Tempe, where are we going? I'm tired. Why couldn't we have stayed at the theatre?" She asked, her feet dragging as her bag scraped along the dirty street. Tempe had had enough. She spun around to face Hattie. She took a step back in surprise as Tempe's eyes became like ice.

"If you really want to go back there, fine, I'm sure you'd be welcomed with open arms, but I'm not going! I will do whatever it takes to keep us alive out here, but your complaining is making nothing easier!" She said, spinning around to continue walking. She wanted to appear as if she didn't care if Hattie followed but never the less her ears strained to hear her stumbling footsteps. Confident Hattie was still behind her she returned to her mission. All she needed to do is get them through until the sunrise. Then she could buy a paper and find someone who wanted a maid or something of the like.

After crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, they stumbled into the higher class neighborhoods. A grand and lavish hotel soon came into view. If only they had the means to stay there. Tempe stopped and had a brilliant idea. She turned to face the dark brick front of the hotel. Her mind turned as she thought this through. It has almost no chance of working, but what if it did? They could stay in a warm bed tonight. Hattie, not looking where she was going, bumped straight into her sister.

"Temperance, what are you doing?" she said in exasperation. A smile lit of Tempe's face as she looked down to her sister's bulging carpet bag. It was weighing her down far more than Tempe's was.

"Hattie, did you take any of the theatre's dresses?" She asked quickly, practically grabbing for the bag. Hattie looked down guiltily. Instead of the scolding her sister expected Tempe hugged her.

"Oh thank the Heavens for your greedy ways! Hand it over, I need it." She said, reaching down and pulling on the bag's clasps. Hattie pulled back in surprise.

"Whatever for?!" She asked, dropping the bag as Temperance began to rifle through it. Tempe pushed belongings and skirts aside until at the bottom she found what she was looking for. She held up a dress she had seen many times. Luckily it was floor length. It was pale blue with light purple trimmings. It wasn't the right color for high society in November but it would have to do. It had a tight waist and off the shoulder sleeves that reached her wrists. Now all she needed was a place to change.

"Okay Hattie, now here's the plan. We're getting into that hotel tonight if it kills us. We may be dancers but because of that we are also actresses." She said, slinging the dress over her arm and looking around for someplace to change. Hattie shot her a questioning look.

"I'll dress in this and then you'll be my servant or something, because I can tell you still have that hangover." She started, seeing a lit building down the street.

"We'll go in and pretend we have a reservation, and when they don't find it we'll drop some big names and somehow swing a room. Don't worry; I'm sure it'll work." She said pulling Hattie down the street towards the large building. She hoped she could find somewhere to change inside.

"Are you sure Tempe? We could get kicked out." She said, catching up to her sister. She knew once Tempe had an idea in her head, she couldn't shake it. Tempe nodded.

"Yes and that would put us right back here, nothing really lost." She said as she walked up the stairs to face a brick building. She could hear the East River from here and smell the scents of the docks. She knocked on the door quickly, trying not to lose her nerve; she thought she heard a party inside. The chipping brown door swung open and a tall boy blocked the entrance. He was smiling widely, had a hat pushed back on his black hair and wore only trousers with suspenders, yet no shirt. Temperance flushed madly and looked down, knowing this was entirely improper.

"Can I help you ladies?" He asked his accent strong, though decidedly not from Brooklyn. Temperance stammered, still not sure if she should look up. Then Hattie's voice sounded from behind her.

"Yes sir, we were just wondering if you had a powder room we could use." She asked, lacing her voice with sweetness. Temperance took a deep breath. Hattie taking the lead was a nice surprise, her many nights with men obviously paying off. Tempe lifted her eyes and attempted not to blush at the sight of the shirtless boy. At closer inspection is was obvious he was right around their age, 18 at the oldest. A mess of black hair fell into his green eyes. She glanced at Hattie and could tell right away that she was enamored with him. The boy smiled again.

"Well sure thing, follow me." He said taking Hattie's arm like a gentleman. To Temperance's relief he payed her almost no mind. They were led into a large room, where boys of every age were talking, playing cards, and running around. It was a mad house. They were led up a flight of stairs and passed a few closed doors into what seemed to be a bunk room.

"Um, excuse me sir, but do you mind me asking what this building is?" Temperance asked, trying to lace that sweetness into her voice and failing miserably. The boy turned and raised an eyebrow, looking back at Hattie, as if realizing for the first time that they were twins. He was about to answer when a different voice traveled from across the room.

"Well all be. If it isn't the reluctant dancer." She turned, confused, once again mistaking the voice for Silas, though it had an undertone of smugness that Silas' never held. She saw a boy walking towards her that she did not recognize right away, and then when she caught sight of brilliant blue-gray eyes that danced with a sign of drink, she realized that it had been the boy from the saloon, the one who had called himself Alexander Conlon.

"Oh, this is…" The other boy started, trying to introduce him.

"Alexander." She said, finishing what she thought was the end to the boy's sentence. She saw Alexander's eyes flash with warning and a hint of anger. Temperance raised her eyebrows, she had only met him momentarily but he did not seem the type to anger easily.

"You must be confused. The name is Spot Conlon." Alexander said. Temperance raised both eyebrows and bit her lip. His name was Spot? She stifled a laugh. His eyes became slits, as his hand went to rest on a gold-tipped cane laced through his suspenders. She realized he was not kidding around, but truly looking at her with rage in his eyes. He turned to the other boy.

"And this is Sailor. Who never asked if it was okay if he brought two…ladies into our lodge house." 'Spot' said slowly, pausing on the word ladies to look at Tempe. He was obviously alluding to the fact they were dancers. Temperance's cheeks grew hot, not from embarrassment but from anger.

"Excuse me?" She asked, her eyes wide. Spot turned to her once more. He gripped the end of the cane and pulled it out to lean on.

"I called you a lady. Was I mistaken?" He asked, his icy eyes never leaving her green ones. She looked down, fumbling for a comeback. She glanced back up at him to see him raise an eyebrow, look at Sailor and smirk in that way of his. She looked past him and saw an open door she was sure led to the powder room.

"Excuse me, but we only came to use your powder room, and if you'll excuse us, we'll go ahead and go there now." She said, walking past Spot and pulling Hattie away from Sailor by the arm. They were just about to reach the door as she heard Spot call out behind her.

"And by the way, it's called a wash room." He said with a laugh as Temperance slammed the door. She didn't understand why he had been very pleasant earlier in the night, but now he was being down right obnoxious. They were leaving as soon as possible.

"Do you know him Tempe?" Hattie asked as she tied one of Temperance's scarves around her hair.

"Hardly. He was at the theatre earlier but I only talked to him for a moment's time." She remarked as she pulled on the blue gown. She was not going to let 'Spot Conlon' deter her from her goals of getting them a warm bed. She fixed her hair in the small mirror as Hattie pulled some make up from her bag. Just a little would make her look far more refreshed and put together than she felt. Soon they were changed and looking their part.

"He's kind of full of himself, not that I mind Sailor, he was kind of attractive." Hattie said, a smile spilling across her features.

"I'm sorry you feel that way because we are going to that hotel." She said, taking one more look at the mirror, picking up her bag and walking out into the bunk room. Spot Conlon was leaning against a wall, Sailor by his side. A smirk spread across Spot's face, his eyes dancing.

"Now where could you _possibly_ be going dressed like that?" He asked, his arms outstretched in fake exasperation. Hattie immediately went to smiling at Sailor who boldly flirted back.

"I'm going to get us a hotel room for the rest of the night, and if I must lie to get us in, that's what I'll do." She said straightening the front of her dress. Spot shook his head.

"It's almost three in the morning, why don't you grab a bunk here tonight, rather than…begging." He said leaning close to her. Temperance swiftly slapped him across the face.

"How dare you! We are ladies, not night crawlers, and I beg for nothing!" She said as he put a hand to his cheek laughing. Sailor and Hattie were silent, mouths agape as Temperance stared daggers and the grinning boy. She picked up her bag and looked at Hattie.

"Let's leave, shall we?" She said, making her way across the bunk room and down the stairs, the other boys taking off their hats as she passed, Hattie at her heels. As they stepped into the cold street once more Tempe fought the urge to cry. She looked to Hattie and knew that she had made a mistake. A warm bed had been at her fingertips, but her own pride had gotten in the way.

"We'll get in. Don't worry." She said, looking down the street at the lavish building on the docks. She was not about to be put down by Alexander Spot Conlon. Not on her life.


End file.
